


Love in Search of a (Spoken) Word

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Art by Sinyaru, Fanart, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26173066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Madara comes to him wet with rain and shaken with worry, confessing things that Tobirama already knows.
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 22
Kudos: 304





	Love in Search of a (Spoken) Word

**Author's Note:**

> A collaboration with my good friend Sinyaru, who did the art for this piece! :D

“I think I’m in love with you.” Madara’s fringe dripped with rainwater, plastered to his face so that one side was completely obscured. “And I’m terrified.”

“You’ll catch a cold standing out there like that,” Tobirama murmured. With slow, clearly telegraphed movements he reached out to pull the other inside, sliding the door closed without taking his first hand off the shaken man ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. 

His voice was soft as he directed Madara down the hall to the bathroom where he collected several towels from the closet. Drying off so much hair always took a long time but Tobirama was a patient man, parting the dripping mass in to sections and wrapping each in soft cotton, drawing as much of the water out naturally as possible to help cut down on the volume of frizz when he finished the job with a touch of chakra. A smile touched his lips when the man shivered under his ministrations and pushed him in to the bedroom. 

Stepping around towards the dresser, he pressed a kiss against his partner’s forehead on the way to pull out dry clothes from one of the drawers he had cleaned out months ago only to watch them slowly fill up with clothing that wasn’t his own. Madara’s gaze was locked somewhere over his shoulder when he turned around again. 

“Did you hear what I said?” came the impatient demand.

“I did.” Tobirama shook out the clothes and laid them across the end of the bed before starting on the task of unknotting the wet obi holding Madara’s sodden clothing together. 

“Oh.” 

Looking up, he smiled again at the crestfallen look on his partner’s face. What a ridiculous man. 

“Something wrong?” he asked. Madara stiffened and the thoughts racing through his mind were plain on his face, the internal struggle of whether or not to actually speak his mind. 

“You didn’t say anything. I said- but you didn’t- never mind, I guess.”

Tobirama hummed as he finally managed to get the knotted sash to loosen. “You’re worried over me not saying anything? I say that all the time. Not my fault you don’t know when to listen properly.” 

He paused to admire his handiwork when the knot finally opened, peeling the material away piece by piece until Madara was left standing in the middle of the room with his chest bare, skin clammy and cold, face scrunched up with confusion. If it weren’t for the natural heat his chakra nature granted him it was probable he might have already caught a cold standing outside in the rain as he’d apparently been doing. Dark eyes followed his every movement but Tobirama simply let the man stare until he finally found his words again. 

“Like when?” Madara demanded. 

“I say that I love you when you’re sleeping and you reach out to make sure I’m still there. I say that I love you when I wake in my lab to find that you’ve brought me tea and dinner. I say that I love you when you scream in someone’s face for making comments about Hashirama.” Tobirama bore the weight of his partner’s stare easily as he continued to pull wet clothing away and towel the cold skin beneath. “I say that I love you when you’re covered in blood and fearless in the face of odds that would make a lesser man weep. I say that I love you when you wrinkle your nose before you sneeze. I say that I love you when you watch the village children playing with a smile on your face.”

“You’ve never said it so that I can hear you.” Madara’s expression was a study of confusion, so many different emotions warring for space and all of them winning. 

“Don’t I?” Tobirama hummed. 

“No!” 

Pausing in his work, he looked his partner in the eye at last and lifted one eyebrow. “Do I not bring you tea made just the way you like it? Let you sleep after you’ve stayed awake holding Izuna’s hand through another panic attack? Share your dessert when you can’t finish it even though I have no taste for sweets?” 

“But you’ve never said it!” Madara cried. 

And that was at least partially true. In the months since they had stumbled their way through an awkward first date Tobirama had been careful never to say those words when he knew the other could hear him. Emotions had always been difficult for both of them to express in any way and verbally was the worst. Asking either of them to speak how they felt out loud was akin to pulling teeth for information, a messy affair and painful for everyone involved. 

He supposed, however, that sacrifices could be made for his most precious person. 

“I love you very much,” Tobirama said with a small tilt of the head. “There, I’ve said it. Does that assuage your fears at all?”

Madara’s response was a soft whine, leaning forward until he could bury his reddening face against Tobirama’s shoulder. Neither of them saw fit to care much about the remaining damp on his person slowly leeching in to Tobirama’s clothing. A little water was the last thing on their minds. Tobirama slid his arms around the cold body molesting him and held tightly, unsure if he was trying to soothe himself or his partner but happy enough to kill two birds with one stone. He listened to a few ridiculous grumbles about how he always had an answer for everything while looking around for one of the many hair brushes his bedroom had recently acquired.

Before stepping away to grab the closest one Tobirama allowed them both a few minutes to stand quietly in their embrace. When the heat in Madara’s ears had receded to less worrisome levels he slipped over to snatch up the brush, returning as quickly as possible, hands sliding over naked skin like he could press himself in to his partner’s soul and never be parted again. A fanciful thought he chose not to dwell on. 

“Say it again.” 

“I love you. Turn around, I’ll start with the back.”

“You don’t have to,” Madara murmured even as he turned around to kneel on the futon, the impact of his weight sending up waves of their mingled scents. The familiar mixture seemed to help him focus on something other than the heat rising up the back of his neck again. 

Tobirama smiled as he knelt behind and began to work out the knots at the very end of the long mane before him. Brushing Madara’s hair was always a lengthy process that required a great deal of patience but it was something he had enjoyed from the first time he offered, the perfect excuse to bury his fingers in luxuriously soft waves and a way to lavish tender care on his partner without mortifying either of them with grandiose gestures. Feeling merciful, he waited until he was at least mostly done before finally speaking his mind, laughter hiding under his tongue. 

“I noticed that you didn’t say anything back.”

“Nng!” 

As expected, Madara’s first reaction was to indulge in a full body flail that overbalanced him in to the blankets. Tobirama looked on with a smile for his favorite fool. He himself wasn’t all that great with expressing things but his partner had a certain dramatic flair that seemed entirely unique to him. Even Hashirama with his constant outbursts never quite reached the level of his best friend. Falling over seemed to leave him disoriented so it took a minute or two of flopping about as though he’d lost control of his own limbs before finally Madara was able to roll over and climb back in to a kneeling position, facing back towards Tobirama but with his chin tucked down to avoid eye contact. That may have had something to do with the return of a deep blush to his cheeks. 

“Well, I mean, I did already say it.” 

“Mn, what was it you said?”

“That I love you!”

Finally Tobirama let his smile blossom in to soft chuckles as he reached out and pulled the other man in to another embrace. “You may find this somewhat anticlimactic but I already knew that. To me it was obvious how we both felt even if we never said the words to each other.” 

“Oh. That’s...that’s nice, I suppose.” Madara furrowed his brows as though with deep thought. 

“I am always nice to you”-Tobirama paused to reconsider and added-”except when I am not. Now, I can’t imagine that hanging about naked and damp is keeping you very warm. Get yourself under the blanket while I go fetch another one so you don’t leech all of my heat while I sleep.” 

For once Madara didn’t seem inclined to argue, flopping back down across the futon and rolling about again until his face was buried out of sight. Tobirama celebrated his easy win by not pointing out that falling asleep without braiding all that hair would only mean brushing it out again in the morning. Considering how often they spent the night in each others’ homes he had learned months ago to keep an extra blanket stored in the room for easy access so it was only a minute or so later that he was pulling at corners to straighten the addition, lifting one edge to admire the pale backside hidden underneath before slipping in to press himself against it. 

It wasn’t until he was almost completely settled in and ready to sleep that he noticed his own shirt was still wet. Tobirama wrinkled his nose in annoyance. 

“Where are you going?” Madara demanded as soon as he began to squirm back out of the bed. 

“My shirt is wet,” he answered. “I’ll never fall asleep if I don’t replace it with something dry.”

“Just take it off and get back here. S’not like I’ve never seen you without a shirt on.”

Tobirama hummed thoughtfully, propped up on one elbow where he had paused in his movements. “I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate, to be honest. You seemed quite shaken by your realization; I didn’t wish to make you feel pressured in to anything.” His partner looked back at him with utter confusion. 

“Pressured?”

“You’re entirely nude,” he pointed out. 

Not that such a thing bothered him. Like the man had said, it wasn’t like they’d never seen each other naked or fallen asleep together in such a state. It was just that he had a long track record of failing to read the mood properly and he wasn’t certain whether the press of skin against skin would be welcome just now. Madara’s snort was enough of an answer to make him feel foolish for his caution. 

“Get naked and get back here so you can warm me up!” 

Since that was an order he was more than happy to follow Tobirama only chuffed and reached for the hem of his top. Having been getting ready for bedtime anyway shortly before his partner arrived, there weren’t a whole lot of layers for him to remove, allowing him to slip under the blankets only a minute later and wriggle in until Madara’s hips were fitted in to the cradle of his own with one arm tucked under his own head with the other holding their bodies tightly together. It was a familiar position, one they had fallen asleep in numerous times before. Still it made his heart flutter helplessly in his chest to feel the tension in Madara’s body seep away and sink back against him. To have such trust from a man like this was a gift he still wasn’t sure how he had earned. 

He was hardly one to look a gift horse in the mouth, though. 

On the other hand, he was absolutely the type of man who had never entirely learned when to leave well enough alone, when to stop asking questions. As Madara finally warmed up enough to stop shivering Tobirama burrowed in against the damp hair at the back of his neck and hummed thoughtfully. 

“Why did it terrify you?” he asked. 

“Huh?”

“Falling in love, why did it scare you?”

The body in his arms went stiff again but he held tightly as Madara searched for words. “Love can be dangerous for the people in my clan. I mean, I knew that we were headed down that road but it was like I was walking along and it just hit me all of a sudden, you know? Like opening my eyes to see that I had already arrived when I thought there was still half the journey left.” 

“So you were just startled more than anything else?” Tobirama summarized, lifting a brow when Madara squirmed uncomfortably against him. 

“Well...I don’t know. Maybe I was a little worried that you weren’t, er, quite at the same part of the journey as I am.”

Now that gave him pause. Tobirama rolled that around in his mind a few times to look at it from every angle, deciding how it made him feel. After a minute or so he offered, “To be the only one in love would indeed be a terrible thing.” Shuffling away gave him room to pull Madara down on to his back so their eyes could meet. “But you’re not the only one. Quite frankly it’s a little worrisome that you don’t seem to realize how much I care for you.” 

“Obviously I know that you care.” Madara grumbled.

“But-”

“I just didn’t know how deeply, alright? Neither of us has ever been in love before, how was I supposed to know what it looks like!” 

“Ah. Well allow me to show you then.”

The heat in his eyes kept his prey still for Tobirama to slide himself over Madara’s body until he was straddled across broad hips. When he leaned in for a kiss he was met halfway by a pair of soft, eager lips and hands grazing up the skin of his chest, pausing to thumb circles around one of his nipples. Apparently there really hadn’t been a need for him to worry about whether the mood was right for this. How delightful. Speaking without words had always been the best way they communicated. He responded to such welcome ministrations with a gentle roll of his hips to test the waters a little further. The whine that rose up from below broke their kiss and Tobirama took advantage of the distraction to dip his head, leaving a trail of sharp bites down the column of his partner’s neck just to feel how the body underneath his arched in to the sensation. 

Although technically this was still his home there was enough of Madara here for the man to reach out with the absent minded confidence of someone who knew their space well and come back with a half empty bottle of lube. That definitely sealed the deal of where this was going. His fingers were still quite cold when they felt their way down to Tobirama’s entrance but so was the lube itself. Still he murmured his apologies and some lewd suggestions for how he could warm his hand, filthy words meant to distract from the soft emotion in his voice. 

Like he usually did, Tobirama allowed his partner the dignity of not pointing out that it didn’t work. 

Instead he rocked his hips forward to feel the brush of skin against skin and then back in to the touch at his entrance with a low sigh of want as he felt two fingers press inside. Madara took advantage of the distraction to capture his lips in another kiss, free hand tracing patterns on his ribs, grounding him with gentle strokes that softened the edges of frenetic lust in to something that could only be described as passion. Madara was a man who brought passion in to every facet of his life. From the first time they tumbled in to bed together Tobirama had been more than happy to enjoy the benefits of such a tendency here where at last they found a way to communicate that they both understood. It boggled Tobirama’s mind that his partner could ever be unsure of where they stood with each other when he felt the love between them so clearly in every kiss, every touch. Here between the sheets their bodies spoke for them and oh how he loved the sweet music their souls made together.

“Your lips make me wonder what the rest of you would taste like,” Madara whispered, likely unaware that Tobirama could clearly hear what he meant to say: that he could never get enough, that he wanted to have this every day for the rest of their lives. A sentiment that was shared rather enthusiastically. 

“As if you haven’t tasted every inch of me before,” he murmured back. “You’re always welcome to do so again, though.” 

He wondered if his partner truly understood the offer he was making in return but at the same time he supposed it didn’t matter. The panic on Madara’s face when he appeared on the porch tonight, soaked through with the night’s rain, made it clear that subtlety had run its course. Words would be needed - but later. Later he could embarrass them both with bluntly laying out the happy future he saw for them. For now this was more than enough, listening to Madara splutter indignantly. He could dish out the filth but it always flustered him when Tobirama riposted so easily. 

“See if I don’t!” Madara declared, although he notably made no move to change their positions. 

Tobirama had no problems with accepting another finger inside himself. His hips rolled almost unconsciously in to the sensations of being opened up for something bigger. There were times when it was almost annoying how necessary this step was, times when all he wanted was the closeness of being filled and feeling Madara flush against him as soon as possible, but there were also times like now when it was nice to draw it all out, to savor every moment the way a maiden savors every brush stroke of a heartfelt love letter. 

It seemed his thoughts were determined to run in a sappy direction tonight, more affected by Madara’s declaration than he’d realized. Tobirama bore down on the fingers scissoring inside him and nipped at the lips moving against his own in an effort to bring himself back to the present. Yes Madara loved him but he’d already known that. Why should hearing it spoken out loud affect him like this? 

“Need- hold on.” A moment and Madara’s touch was gone, immediately missed, encouraging a scowl to rise on Tobirama’s face until he realized what the man had paused for. 

“Right.” It took a great deal of strength to shuffle away just enough that Madara had room for slipping a condom down over his own length. The moment those hands were out of his way he was sliding in again to fit them together in ways he had never fit against another. 

“Like this?” Madara asked him. 

“I want to watch you,” Tobirama admitted. 

Heat climbed up the column of Madara’s neck, lips mumbling that they could watch each other just as well the other way around, though he offered no true complaints. In the language of an emotionally constipated Uchiha that usually meant he was pleased by what was said but too embarrassed to say so. Tobirama would have taken the time to pat himself on the back for understanding if he weren’t busy with canting his hips at just the right angle for Madara to press against him until the head of his cock slid inside, both of them groaning with something like relief. 

“Gods,” his partner swore. “Perfect. Always feel so fucking perfect.” 

“Could say the same of you,” Tobirama tried to sally back, though it came out much more breathless than intended. 

Yet how could he be anything but breathless as he sat up for gravity to pull him down until the two of them were perfectly and entirely locked together. Considering who they were, what they had been trained for and how their tempers were prone to running hot at a moment’s notice, gentle was not a word that could often be used to describe their sex life. For that matter it wasn’t a word that could often be used to describe most facets of their relationship and to the surprise of many that worked for them. But there were days like today when the feral animal passion that usually marked their nights simply wasn’t present. Sometimes it was nice to just _be_ together, to gentle their touch the way both of them had gentled the other’s heart. 

Tobirama rolled his hips in a slow circle just to enjoy the feeling of being full - and maybe also to hear his partner groan with impotent frustration, no doubt eager for him to really move. Just this once there was mercy in him. Bracing himself against the broad chest below, he lifted his body as slowly as a man with his muscular control was able to. He watched Madara’s eyes fall shut as though praying for strength and breathed a sigh of contentment when the hands skimming his body settled at last on his hips, neither pushing nor pulling, not hurrying him in any way but simply framing him with the same unwillingness to let go that had kept the two of them together for so long now. Only when he could feel the pull of Madara’s cock head against his entrance did he finally lower himself back down and let his jaw fall open to pant through the sensation of being filled all over again. 

He wanted to have patience. More than any other night he wanted to draw this out until it became a contest of who could hold out the longest through such sweet torture. And he probably could have much better if not for the burning in his chest that could not be ignored, the pounding of a heart that beat solely for the man sliding inside him, the scent of sex as heavy around them as the lingering scent of damp hair.

Keeping a steady rhythm was easy but forcing that rhythm to remain slow was so much harder with jolts of electricity running up his spine with each rock of his hips. Tobirama knew that if he just shifted his weight back on to his heels he could find the perfect angle against his own prostate and the only thing preventing him from doing so was the idea of stopping even for a single moment. Just the thought of separating himself from his partner had him angling the opposite way, bending his spine until he was close enough to lower his head for another kiss. Madara met him with a low whine of desire. 

Together they rocked and kissed, hands gliding over skin as they slowly worked up a sweat, teeth nipping and lips parting only to let out breathless moans before pressing together again. If there were any moment in his life Tobirama wished he had the ability to imprint upon his mind like the Sharingan could it would be this one. With the ability to immortalize memories he would fill his mind with happy ones, the words whispered in the darkness, the touches they shared when there was no one there to see them. He would have given the world to bring the expression on Madara’s face with him until the grave. Nothing could possibly have filled his chest with warmth quite like seeing red and black eyes looking back at him, memorizing him the way he wished he could do in return. 

When the muscles in his thighs began to burn Tobirama shifted his weight minutely in an attempt to ease the pressure without stopping. A frown touched his brow for perhaps a single heartbeat, the shift putting him at an angle that wasn’t quite as good, but it wasn't a problem for long. The next time he sank down Madara rolled his hips up to meet in the middle and the sensation punched a cry out of him that lingered in the air.

“Just like that,” he managed to choke out, pressing back harder and letting another groan slip out, preening under the hot eyes watching his every move. It was always nice to be appreciated. 

“S’long as you - _hnn gods_ \- don’t stop!” Madara’s voice sounded just as strained as his own, stroking Tobirama’s ego even as he slipped a hand between them to stroke his cock in time with their movements. 

Keeping his rhythm controlled at an almost excruciatingly slow pace began to pay off at last as he felt tension gathering in his thighs and his belly, heat bubbling through his veins, building steadily towards what promised to be a rather spectacular end. If the grimace of pleasure looking up at him from below was anything to judge by he would say that Madara felt quite the same. Resisting the urge to quicken his movements was difficult, resisted only by employing every last ounce of willpower he could muster. Each time he sat back Madara filled him oh so perfectly and each time he lifted away his own cock slid through the ring of fingers stroking him just so. Despite having thought this same thing before - several times before - he couldn’t help thinking this must be the best sex they’d ever had. 

And he thanked every deity he could think of that his partner had no interest in soppy confessions of that nature. 

With a rumbling growl that even he would not have expected to hear from himself, Tobirama clenched his fingers and bent to crash their lips together for a kiss that bordered on vicious. Madara’s hips snapped harder as if in reflex and that was all he needed. Tobirama cried out even as he refused to pull away. Adrenaline and dopamine flooded his system, orgasm crashing through his veins like wildfire, and over the white noise of pleasure he could just faintly hear Madara echoing his cry so loudly he could feel it in his soul. 

His body was shuddering uncontrollably when he finally realized he was still kissing his partner frantically, a dying man finding water in the desert. Madara’s fingers tightening on his hips brought them to stillness before he even understood they were still moving. Their lips parted and Tobirama gasped for the breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding, gulping air and curling down in the same movement, needing to be as close as possible even if he knew he could never have properly put that need in to words. Strong arms closed around him without comment. At first simply to rest against his back, a welcome and comforting weight, then after a minute or so stroking languidly up and down his spine. Tobirama used that touch to ground himself. 

“Shit,” rumbled past his ear with a puff of exhausted breath. 

“Eloquent.” Tobirama made a passing attempt at teasing only to decide he hadn’t the energy. “But accurate.”

“That was…”

He waited but when Madara didn’t continue he smiled, unable to lift his head just yet and unbothered by the hair pillowing his face. “Yes. Yes it was.”

“Well, ah, I guess I really did get myself worked up about nothing. And you know what? I can’t seem to find the will to be upset about it.” Madara huffed once in amusement but stopped when Tobirama mumbled in protest for the movement. 

“Of course you were worried for nothing. Unnecessary emotions are, after all, your modus operandi.”

“I don’t know what that means but I feel like I should be insulted.”

“Yes, you should. You should also quit squirming before I pinch you in the side; I am quite comfortable right here and if you dislodge me I will not be happy.” 

This time when Madara laughed it was more of an amused hum as he fell blessedly still, allowing Tobirama to fairly melt overtop of him. As much as the hand stroking his back had been appreciated it was nice to just lie still and drift. Several minutes passed during which the world outside of their little personal bubble slowly inched back in to their awareness, the sound of crickets drifting in the window, drying sweat tacky on their skin. Eventually the romance of lying in each other’s arms gave way to the need for cleaning themselves up. Tobirama still made a point of rolling his head sideways to leave a trail of languid kisses across whatever skin he could reach without moving just yet. 

“Do try not to forget,” he murmured.

“No,” Madara agreed. “I don’t think I could. Sometimes I do wonder if the other clans ever love as strongly as an Uchiha but I suppose it doesn’t matter. This is the only way I know how to love. You’re just going to have to deal with it.”

“I deal with a lot being in love with you.” 

Already smirking, this time when his glorified mattress heaved with insult he allowed the motion to roll him sideways and down across the mess they had made of his sheets. His muscles were still a little too shaky to dodge the reprimanding swat that caught him in the bottom as he stumbled his way up off the futon and away to grab a damp cloth from the bathroom. Cleaning himself was a perfunctory affair, little attention to detail and finished as soon as possible, then he was wobbling back off to the bedroom where he tossed another cloth over Madara’s face and crumpled back in to the bedding. 

He watched through hooded eyes while his partner gave himself a similarly quick once over in the more important places until finally that cloth too was discarded and he attacked the first opening available, draping one leg back over Madara’s waist and pillowing his head against a strong shoulder. 

“I feel I should also warn you not to expect such sentimentality from me very often. This was a special occasion.” 

Madara grunted. “I think we’d both melt from embarrassment if I asked you to declare your love for me every morning or some bullshit.” 

“Listening to Anija and his wife was bad enough before I escaped the pair of them.”

“Ugh. I did not envy you having to live in the same house as all that goopy romance. How you kept your sanity is beyond me.” 

“Aren’t you the one who says I have none left anyway?”

He listened to another grunt of acknowledgement and then the both of them fell silent again for several minutes. Without the stink of drying salt on their skin or the tacky feeling of their own bodily fluids it was so much more pleasant to let their muscles turn to water, eyes sliding closed to welcome the blanket of exhaustion settling down over them. It was hard sometimes, Tobirama mused, to really believe that this was all real. He supposed he could understand the panic in Madara’s eyes when his partner showed up tonight. It was always the softest moments, the ones that should be nothing but appreciated, that made one question if this could all be little more than a fanciful dream. 

But he knew that, as it had every other day, the morning would come and with it would come terrible breath, bickering over who should cook breakfast, and a hundred new moments to appreciate this man who had grown so dear to him. What they had was so far from any predictions he’d once had of his own future; it was so much more. 

They were happy. They made each other happy. And that was so much more important that the how or why of it all. 

“‘M fallin’ ‘sleep,” Madara announced in a sleepy mumble. 

“That is what one does in a bed.” Tobirama’s snarky reply was softened somewhat by the yawn that blurred the majority of his words. 

He heard some sort of vague rebuttal being grumbled in to his hair. Whatever it was Madara was trying to say was mostly lost to the pull of dreams as he fell willingly in to sleep’s embrace. When he was sure that his partner was well and truly unconscious Tobirama dredged up the strength to shift his body just a little closer, curling them together just a little bit tighter, and smiled the sort of gentle mushy smile he hoped no one would ever see on his face. 

“I love you,” he whispered one last time. “You dumb ass.” 

Then he closed his eyes and let the darkness take him onward towards another day in their version of a happy ever after. 


End file.
